


the star in her eyes

by akiko



Series: PacificTale [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 09:16:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15627546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akiko/pseuds/akiko
Summary: “You know, she kind of reminds me of Bitty.”You blink at him, glancing towards the sparring duo and then back at him again, frowning. “Who? Undyne? What the heck do they have in common?”





	the star in her eyes

**Author's Note:**

> the title is a pun; bitty's (ruins dummy's) name in this au (bituon) means "star" in english
> 
> finally got around to writing this! the outline for this idea has been collecting dust in my google docs for months, and now i finally sat down and wrote it all in one go! and now here it is! a brief look into undyne and mads' friendship!
> 
> \--
> 
>  **mad dummy** is filipinx, **mtt** is filipino/japanese, and **undyne** is thai.
> 
> this is unbeta'd. feel free to point out any mistakes!

She moves with her usual grace and power. Even from halfway across the room, her swings seem to ruffle your hair and her footwork seems to shake the very ground underneath your toes. Watching her fight still makes your skin tingle, and you can’t help but catch your breath at the sensation.

“Admiring your platonic crush?” an annoying voice says, and without even looking, you can already see the smirk gracing his features.

You give your cousin a glare, and sure enough, there’s that teasing smirk.

You huff, “Oh, shut up, Ton.”

Ton (or Metta, as he’s more widely known, but he would always be Ton-ton to you) elbows you playfully, “Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss, dear cousin of mine! It’s no secret that you practically worship the ground Undyne walks on.”

You roll your eyes. Always with the exaggerations and dramatics, your cousin. “Is it such a crime to respect someone, these days?” you grouse, turning your gaze back to the aforementioned redhead, who’s still sparring with the taller Gaster brother - Papyrus, if you remember correctly.

“No, but it’s fun to tease you about it,” Ton snickers, and you irritably shove at his shoulder. You’re used to his teasing and you liked to think you have better control over your temper now, but there’s still only so much you could take.

Ton makes a noise that seems to be a mix of a chuckle and a gasp, as if he can’t decide whether to laugh or pretend to be offended by your “roughhousing,” as he likes to call it in his more dramatic moments. (Though, granted, he’s always dramatic.) He remains quiet instead, which is a rare blessing, but also makes you highly suspicious, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Still, you sneak a glance at him, and notice that he’s also watching Undyne and Papyrus spar. Knowing him, though, he’s probably more focused on the Gaster kid, since he has a crush on both him and the older, shorter brother.

But Ton surprises you by saying, “You know, she kind of reminds me of Bitty.”

You blink at him, glancing towards the sparring duo and then back at him again, frowning. “Who? Undyne? What the heck do they have in common?”

Bitty was shorter, for one thing. Chubbier, and probably a bit darker skin tone-wise too. Their black, curly hair had been cut short to their chin. Plus, Bitty was much more placid. Undyne is more… passionate compared to you. So, compared to Bitty, Undyne practically spits flames. The two can't possibly be more different.

“They’re both blunt and sassy, for one thing. Though, Bitty’s probably more blunt and sassier,” Ton notes, tapping his chin. “They’re also both really passionate and really good at baking. Oh, and they’re both really protective and ready to fight for the people they care about. Though, Bitty’s much less… aggressive about it than our resident redhead here.”

You pause at that, mind whirling as you process his words.

Holy shit.

You turn back to Undyne. Her dyed-red hair seems to flare under the fluorescent lights, but for a moment, you try to superimpose dark curly hair and a shorter, stockier build over her sparring form -

\- and find that it’s not that difficult to picture.

Holy _shit._

Undyne is like Bitty.

Undyne _reminds you of Bitty._

_WHACK!_

 

You have to go to the infirmary because you weren’t able to block a hit to the head.

Your instructor is perplexed (“you’re one of the best fighters in your year,” “you could have easily blocked that hit,” “maybe you should go see your psych analyst,” etc. etc.), and honestly, so are you. Your head is still spinning from the fact that you see the resemblance of your favorite cousin, your adoptive sibling, your _best friend_ , in your newest friend and potential Drift partner.

Though, maybe the dizziness is from getting whacked on the head with a bo staff.

 

* * *

 

You avoid Undyne for the next couple of days. Which is difficult, considering you have classes together, and your rooms are just a couple doors away from each other, but you manage by ducking around corners, taking the “scenic route” to classes, and timing your shower schedule much earlier than anyone else’s.

You’re pretty sure Undyne notices, especially when you avoid sparring with her - something which you’ve always been eager to do at any given opportunity. You’ll have to confront her eventually, but you’re not really keen on it right now. Or possibly ever.

You should probably find another Drift partner.

The thought of it makes you want to hit something. Sparring with Undyne was one of the best things in the world; you could read each other so well, it was almost like you were both dancing to a song only the two of you could hear. Or something else cliché and sappy that Ton could think up in a heartbeat.

You decide to take your frustrations out on a practice dummy in the Kwoon. As always.

And this is how Undyne finds you, moments later.

“‘Sup, Blook,” her rough, gravelly voice calls from the door.

You tense, your staff stopping just at the neck of the dummy, about to deal a finishing blow. With a sigh, you swing your staff away and straighten up, trying to exude calm as you turn around.

On a surface level, there really is nothing similar between Undyne and Bitty. But from the way she’s standing (posture casual, hand on her hip, bo staff propped on her shoulder, all in all blocking as much of the door - the exit - as possible), and from the look of worry-anger-hurt-confusion in her eyes, it feels just like any other time Bitty was about to scold you for getting into another fight at school.

You duck your head, already feeling chastised.

Undyne remains quiet for a minute, probably sizing you up and taking note of your submissive posture, then says, matter-of-factly, “Let’s spar.”

After a beat, you nod. But you know you don’t really have a choice. She would have made you spar with her either way. By force, if it came down to it.

You both move towards the center mat, pause in front of each other, and bow, before taking your stances. If Undyne notices your hands shaking, she doesn’t comment on it. Thankfully.

You decide to attack first, feinting for her head before swiping at her legs. She doesn’t even tense at the feint, just jumps as you change course, before aiming for your shoulder. You sidestep and block the hit with your own staff. You cross weapons for only a second, but you could feel her gaze on you. You ignore it, focusing on where your staffs meet instead.

With a frustrated snarl, she pushes against you, using the momentum to jump away before dashing in and aiming for your midsection. The push makes you take a step back, but you manage to hit her staff away from your stomach just in time. You follow through with the motion of the hit, tilting the other end of your staff towards her face, but she drops to the floor and swipes her leg at your feet. The end of your bo staff hits the floor and you use it to vault away from her leg-swipe, aiming a backwards kick at her as you go, but she rolls away and aims another swing at your feet just as they hit the floor. You don't catch yourself in time.

You go down with a _thump._  Adrenaline pounds through your veins as you catch your breath, staring up at the ceiling. It’s not until Undyne’s face comes into view, grin as sharp as ever, that you realize you’re grinning just as widely. God, you missed this.

“Heh. Finally got you to look at me again,” she notes, smug.

Your smile drops, as you remember exactly why it’s been so long since you’ve sparred together and exactly why you’ve been avoiding her. You glance away, ignoring her offered hand as you roll to your feet.

You walk over to side of the room, where your water bottle sits near the wall, and take a drink as you studiously avoid looking in her direction.

“So,” Undyne starts, leaning against the wall beside you, “you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

It’s suddenly hard to swallow water, so you set the bottle down and wipe your face with your towel. Still not looking at her.

“If it’s something I said or did, just _tell_ me already!” she growls, grabbing your shoulder and turning you towards her. “This is _so not cool_ , Mads!”

You glance away, guilt roiling in your stomach. “Sorry,” you grumble, frustrated. At yourself, mostly. And maybe partially at her, for resembling Bitty so much.

“NGGAAAAAHH!” she grumble-shouts towards the ceiling, grabbing both your shoulders this time, her grip tight as she shakes you a little. “DAMMIT, MADS! TELL ME WHAT’S WRONG! WE’RE FRIENDS, AREN’T WE? OR IF YOU DON’T WANNA BE FRIENDS ANYMORE, AT LEAST _TELL ME_! DON’T JUST AVOID ME LIKE A COWARD!”

You bristle at her words and glare at her, snarling, “YOU TAKE THAT BACK! I’M NOT A COWARD!”

“THEN PROVE IT!” She shakes you a little again, but it doesn’t diminish either of your glares. “‘FESS UP! DO YOU STILL WANNA BE FRIENDS WITH ME?”

“OF COURSE I DO!” you shout in her face, grabbing her arms. The shaking was getting annoying. She stops shaking you, but tightens her grip instead.

“THEN WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING ME, HUH? WAS IT SOMETHING I DID?”

“NO!”

“SOMETHING I SAID?”

“ _NO_!”

“THEN WHAT IS IT? WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?”

“THE PROBLEM IS  _YOU_ , OKAY? SO SHUT UP!”

You both freeze, gaping at each other. You, in horror. Undyne, in hurt. She lets go of you, but you tighten your grip on her arms.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” you plead, trying to get her to stay and listen, to let you at least _explain_ -

“There’s a different meaning to ‘the problem is _me_?’” she snarks, but doesn’t move away, raising at eyebrow at you doubtfully.

You hesitate again. But if you don’t explain yourself, you’re going to lose someone you respect and admire, someone whose friendship you hold as dear to you as your relationship with your cousins. Your grip tightens on her arms, but she doesn’t complain, only waits, her gaze hard.

Finally, you say, “You just… you remind me of someone… important… to me…”

Undyne relaxes at that. You dare not meet her eyes.

Then, she, in a rare moment of gentleness, quietly asks, “This person… are they dead?”

You could feel tears tickling your throat and you swallow them down. You nod and simply say, “Hundun.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Undyne nodding, grim, understanding. You close your eyes, and notice you’re shaking. Undyne doesn’t step away or make any move to make you let go of your (no doubt uncomfortably tight) grip on her.

After a moment of silence, she says, still just as quietly, “I’m sorry for making you remember.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. It’s... it’s mostly good memories. So. Thank you. For that,” you mumble, awkward. You’re not really comfortable with laying out your vulnerabilities like that - soft, fragile.

Undyne doesn’t call you out on the shakiness of your voice, or on the trembling of your hands, or the weakness in your knees. Only steps closer and grips your shoulders, lets you anchor yourself on your grip on her arms. And quietly lets you cry.

“It’s okay,” you manage to choke out. You’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure her or yourself.

“It’s okay,” she echoes, rubbing reassuring circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay.”

 

* * *

 

But it’s not okay.

The first time you spot Undyne that day, you immediately break into tears. When she asks, flustered and flailing, what was wrong and if maybe you ate something bad or if it was something she did, you just shake your head, your words breaking and creaking in your sobs.

You can’t lose it now. Not now. Not when Ton needs you now more than ever.

It’s the second anniversary of the day Hundun made landfall in Manila, of the day you and Ton lost everyone. Ton needs you to be strong today, of all days. And every other day, if you can help it. You’ve done it before, for a whole year and beyond. You can do it now. You have to.

You sniffle, wipe your face with the towel Undyne offers, and straighten up. Your eyes are probably bloodshot and your nose is all clogged, but you’re not going to gunk up Undyne’s towel with any more of your snot. Plus, she's already seen you cry, anyway, so this couldn't be any worse.

“Thanks,” you manage to mumble, “I’ll wash this and give it back to you by tomorrow.”

“No prob, dude,” she shrugs, patting your shoulder. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

You nod. You can’t afford not to be okay. Wordlessly, you continue down the hallway to the shared bathrooms. You’d managed to coax Ton to at least get out of bed and take a shower. You need to make sure he actually took one and hadn’t just been staring at the wall contemplating death under a running showerhead for the past few minutes.

You could feel Undyne’s gaze boring into the back of your head, but you keep walking, holding in your tears. There were more important things at hand, and he had the possibility of drowning in the shower right about now.

 

Undyne finds you on the rooftops that evening after dinner time.

She takes a seat near you and you acknowledge her with a nod in her direction, but keep your eyes up at the sky.

“I heard what today is,” she says.

You frown, pressing your lips into a thin line, but decide not to comment. Just wait for her to continue.

“Hundun, right?” she prompts.

You merely nod, and she echoes it with a nod of her own as she shifts her gaze to the sky.

After a beat, she asks, “Do you want me to leave?”

For a few seconds, you turn that question over and over in your head, trying to decide how you feel about it. Eventually, you shake your head. You open your mouth to explain why, find you can’t, and close it again. Undyne simply nods, as if understanding what you were about to say but couldn’t.

The two of you continue to gaze at the stars for a few moments, feet dangling over the edge of the rooftop. When you came up here, you’d considered lying on your back, like family tradition dictated, but when you did, you burst into tears again, so you decided to sit on the edge instead. The night air stung cold against your cheeks and, somehow, the sensation kept them free of tears.

Undyne decides to break the silence. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” you answer, almost automatically.

You feel Undyne’s gaze on you, so you glance towards her. She’s glaring at you. “No, you’re not.”

You glare right back at her. “I’m _fine_ ,” you repeat, crossing your arms as if that would further prove your point.

“You were consoling Metta all day! I saw! You were practically hanging onto him like some kind of barnacle!” she protests, poking an accusing finger against your collarbone.

You _tsk_. “So what? He needs me! He gets worst on this day!” You’re not sure if that was grammatically correct, but your point stands.

“But so do you!” Undyne says. “I bet that time this morning was the _only_ time you let yourself cry!”

“ _No_! It was _not_!”

“Well,  _fine_! But did you actually _let_ yourself have a good long cry and not just force yourself to stop after a few seconds?”

You hesitate at that, indignant anger dwindling as if blown away by the truth in her words. You grumble under your breath.

“NGAAAH! SEE! That’s what I mean!” Undyne gestures angrily at you. “You were so focused on taking care of Metta that you forgot to take care of _yourself_! Or maybe you’re not _letting_ yourself take care of yourself!”

“He _needs_ me!” you insist, because if there’s anything you won’t budge on, it’s this. You know how much of a wreck your cousin was when you both saw the news, and what an even bigger wreck he has been since. He’s gotten a bit better, but you know for a fact that he’s not fully okay. Maybe he never will be. And it’s your responsibility now, as the older cousin, to take care of him.

“I’m not saying he doesn’t!” Undyne insists back, smacking a hand on the concrete without even a flinch. Her gaze bores into you, as if demanding that you actually _listen_ to her, and you glare right back. “I’m saying that you can’t devote your whole being to taking care of someone! Especially when this awful thing happened to _both_ of you! Not just him! You gotta take care of yourself too, Mads!”

For a moment of clarity (or is it insanity?), you see in her place, someone shorter, stockier, with short, dark curly hair, a placid expression, and warm, warm eyes.

You try to swallow down the tears, but a sob still ends up escaping. “You sound just like Bitty.”

Undyne immediately softens at that, and before you could turn away to hide your breakdown, she wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close, and you bury your face against her neck. Her hair tickles your nose and it’s that sensation that reminds you, _This isn’t Bitty,_ and you finally let yourself cry.

 

“Sorry about that,” you mumble, turning to the side to blow your nose into Undyne’s soaked handkerchief.

“Nah, it’s fine,” she shrugs. You glance at her. She has her eyes on the stars, but addresses you when she says, “If it makes it easier for you, I can make herself scarce for a while.”

She turns to you, her expression serious and determined as always.

“No!” you practically shout in her face, throwing your hands up as if to frantically wave the mere idea away. “I…” You swallow down the lump of tears in your throat, and turn away briefly to blow your nose again.

Undyne remains quiet as you fidget with the towel.

“I don’t want to lose someone again,” you say quietly, though it’s loud in the stillness of the night between the two of you, “even if it’s just not seeing you.”

Besides, you’ve gotten used to seeing Undyne on a daily basis, so, if anything, her avoiding you will just make you feel worse.

Undyne smiles, sharp but kind, and slings an arm around your shoulders. “In that case, you won’t be getting rid of me that easily!” she laughs, and you can’t help but laugh along with her.

Her long red hair brushes against your cheek as she squishes you to her side and you let that sensation anchor you again, reminding you that this isn’t your cousin, but your passionate, fiery, very much alive friend. And for now, you’re okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been literal years since i last attempted to write an action scene, so please feel free to give constructive criticism. the only reference i kept in mind for it was mako and raleigh's sparring scene in the first pacrim movie. and probably some bits and pieces of anime action scenes at the back of my mind. i hope it at least makes some sense and isn't too confusing.


End file.
